


Grab The Bull By The Horns

by Nitrobot



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: F/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 03:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7150577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrobot/pseuds/Nitrobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A peek into how Cliffjumper and Arcee settled into Optimus' team when they first arrived on Earth, with some smutty aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grab The Bull By The Horns

**Author's Note:**

> So when I first watched TFP I didn't start from the first episode- which is probably why I never thought much of Cliffjumper/Arcee. But recently it's been growing on me a lot despite me not watching any old episodes since the show ended; can't really explain why, but I guess it's cause it's something different from what I usually get interested in, a genuinely loving relationship between two bots on the same faction that might have just been friends, might have been lovers, take your pick. I'm going with lovers here.

Nevada’s desert plains made a fitting backdrop for Cliffjumper’s bragging about his exploits in Cybertron’s infamous Rust Sea. Arcee still didn't believe half of them, particularly those about him reining in Insecticons and hitching rides from one side of the planet to the other on their backs, but it stopped the realisation of being stranded on an unknown, utterly alien world from overwhelming her. 

Though if it was good enough for the saintly Optimus Prime to set up shop on, she couldn't complain much about all the sand and dirt that ended up clogging her armour seams by the time they tracked the Prime’s beacon across the desert. The base looked like a featureless monolith of rock from the foot of it, but through the hidden road entrance (not hidden well enough from an Autobot trained scout like her, though) there was an organised yet humble operation all set up. Not to mention Optimus himself waiting to receive them, as if expecting them all along. His plating had changed, to suit a native alt mode rather than a Cybertronian one, and his faceplate had more hard lines ingrained on its surface than he showed during battle rallies in the first decades of the war, but he still towered over both Arcee and Cliffjumper. 

It was hard not to flinch from the force of his voice, even as Arcee rooted herself to the ground, but all he asked was the expected basics; their designations, and where they'd come from. Cliffjumper was the one who took up explaining their capture by Starscream, his discovery of the Autobots hiding out on Earth, their escape from Shockwave and the destruction of the last Space Bridge on Cybertron. And wherever he tried to exaggerate and make out he took out five or ten more drones than he actually did, it was Arcee’s job to roll her optics and snap him back to reality. 

Optimus listened, sometimes nodded, mostly frowned, and when all was said he offered them an energon cube each. Arcee hadn't even noticed how hollow her tanks were until she felt the fuel trickling into them, sating the dry scratch in her throat at last. Cliff all but guzzled his ration, knocking the entire cube back against his mouth, and his vocaliser was hiccupping static for the rest of the day all through the introductions to the rest of the team. 

The process of duty assignment, scheduling, and even just being with new sparks was so refreshingly normal to Arcee that she didn't realise how exhausted she was until the quarters were given out. She staked out the closest empty one and, after adjusting to the sudden explosion of light overhead after opening the door, collapsed onto a berth so much softer than the slabs of metal and Cybertron’s own ground that she had to make use of for recharge until now. Weariness drenched her limbs, catching up with her after so long spent running from it; even her optics ran out of energy to keep glowing in the muted darkness. 

Before dreams started dancing in her processor, it occurred to her that maybe she should have disabled the automatic light switch before bedding down; but the reason why took another breem before coming to bother her. Her recharge cycle ended abruptly as the lights snapped to life, humming above her and highlighting the plasma rounds loaded into her servo blaster. Though she aimed it right at where Cliffjumper’s helm was poking out from the door, the mech looked like he'd just walked in on her undressing from how stubborn his smirk was.

“First day here and you already got an intruder alarm in place. Nice.” He nodded to add to his praise, and Arcee lowered her weapon with a sigh.

“What do you want?”

With half his body shielded by the door, Cliff’s shrug seemed to float. “Well… I was just thinking it's been a pretty stressful day for both of us.”

“And whatever made you think that?” Arcee deadpanned, her optics reflecting the glaring lights overhead as they rolled.

“Well, I dunno ‘bout you, but my backstrut’s feelin’ like a group of Minicons were dancing over it. But, I can’t recharge, and everyone else’s probably half expecting me to be a ‘Con in disguise, so I figured I'd just annoy you since you're still online.” Cliffjumper’s horns seemed to wiggle somehow, like how a Seeker’s wings or her own winglets might flutter with excitement. She stared at him and his borderline arrogant smirk for a full half-klick before sighing. 

“Close the damn door then, my optics feel like they're gonna burn out.”

Cliffjumper obeyed, bringing himself inside with one step and letting the door ease shut behind him. The lights dimmed again in response, with only their optics and the underglow of their biolights shining in the safe gloom.

“Pretty cozy in here, huh?” Cliff asked, optics dancing around the shadowy, cramped outlines of her sparse quarters. It wasn't cramped until he walked in.

“I guess,” Arcee said in another sigh, unable to stop her heavy helm falling back on her berth. The sight of Cliff just reminded her of the ordeal they'd went through to even get somewhere safe to recharge, the crushing exhaustion she'd been fending off until now. By contrast, Cliff must have been on circuit boosters by how easily he flitted around in the low light, his optics tracking his movements as he, strangely enough, knelt down with his helm pressed to the ground. 

“Y’know Bumblebee told me there's a secret space under the floor, where he found loads of weird human junk…” He rapped a fist against the space under his helm, as if he'd get a reply from any secrets lurking there. “Which… should be right here… or maybe in the walls!” Then he was on his peds again and repeating the process against the nearest wall, his glossa glimmering as the tip of it stuck out of his mouth. It was so peculiar that Arcee had to lift herself up to watch him, eyeridges raised as much as they could be bothered. That confirmed it, he _was_ high on something.

“Well, if that's everything, I've got a busy day ahead of me, and so do you, so-” Before Arcee could finish making her excuses, Cliff ceased his treasure hunting and started scratching his forehelm in a way that seemed nervous even in the gloom. 

“Actually, Cee… that's not the only reason I'm here. Optimus says there's a… shortage of quarters. And since we're the two newest arrivals… we need to share for now.” He spread his servos out, almost touching each wall beside him, and put on an uncertain grin while his horns kept wiggling away.

Arcee blinked, debating over whether she could just close them and feign recharge and hope she was just hallucinating. But instead she just mumbled a very tired, “Are you serious?” 

“Serious as a Quintesson.” To Cliff’s credit, he managed to keep his grin dazzling away even while she was groaning, rolling aside to the very edge of her slab and leaving a wide warm space beside her.

“Just keep to your side of the berth,” she pleaded to her pillow, trying not to fall as he carefully lay down beside her and made a sinkhole of his frame.

 

**xx**

 

_One year later…_

Arcee knew Cliffjumper’s frame better than he did by now, and just how heavy he was when he ended up wrapping his servos around her. She was well used to the embrace, had fallen to recharge within hundreds of them with his spark warm and nestled between her twitching winglets, had woken up still caught in just as many with his vents caressing her neck.  
For the first few vorns she couldn't imagine starting her morning any other way… until Cliff started getting ideas about making the daily ritual more interesting.

“Mm… mh, Cliff.” It took a hard tug of his servo around her waist to rouse him properly and get more than just a low groan in response.

“Hmm… yeah, babe?”

“You're doing it again,” she said. 

“Doing what…?”

“Rubbing your spike between my aft plates.”

If he wasn’t already smirking, she could feel him press a grin into her neck along with his cord pulsing harder in that smooth curve on her backside. “Well, it knows what it wants…” He pressed even closer to her, thrusting himself more along her frame and the faint trembles all along it. Arcee felt his thrumming moans and the transfluid building in the thick shaft, starting to trickle ever so faintly down her plates; and just like that her valve was getting itself into a similar state. He could feel it, that familiar current of heat between them, and one of his horns twitched against her faceplate as she curled a digit around it.

“You are such a jerk…” She muttered it even as she pushed her hips back against him, the fluid dripping down her backstrut as well. 

“So you don't want me to take care of you?” Cliff asked in a rumble as she wrenched him closer with his horns, the servo around her stomach drifting up to slip under her thin chest armour while the other stroked and squeezed her aft so blatantly she wanted to slap and ride him all at the same time.

“I never said that.” While still waking up Arcee missed the chance to call him a fragger, didn't need to when he was already living up to the name with his spike now sliding against her open valve, the head teasing her wet rim as he lifted one of her legs up to thrust so easily into her. She moaned loud behind clamped lips, curling her peds against Cliff’s hips while he pistoned them against her, muffling grunts with kisses against her face and neck, gentle prickling against the onslaught of fire in her nodes. It was rough, quick, full of heavy gasps and dripping with a lazy eagerness to overload, exactly what they needed before facing a long day without each other. 

But apparently, it wasn't quick enough for the mighty leader of the Autobots knocking on their door, the thumps barely heard over the rasp of thighs slapping and moans wreathing into each other.

“Arcee, Cliffjumper?” 

But not even the longest overload in the galaxy could make a bot ignore a Matrix-amplified summons. They both froze, Cliff halfway through a deep thrust and Arcee rushing to the very edge of an overload, biting her pillow to stop it hitting too early. As such, Cliff was the one who had to try and mask his moans with fatigue, horns wilting towards his flushed face.

“Yeah, Optimus?”

There was a slight delay that might have been long enough to listen closer and hear the hiss of Arcee’s heavy vents, but Optimus only continued his order. “As you are both online, I'd like you to take the first perimeter patrol of the day.”

Arcee gulped down whines and pulled her mouth free just long enough to groan, “Right. We’re on it.”

The heavy footsteps faded outside, and only when they were gone did they both sag with relief, though Cliff was still hard as ever and his cockiness was flooding right back.

“Actually, I’m on _you_ right now-”

 _“Shut it,_ Cliff!”

“You know you love it~”


End file.
